


Run Away & Isolate

by Writing01



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Angst and Drama, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst stems from the power imbalance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Crushes, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Panic Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Terrible Parents, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has a Crush, Anxious Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Biracial!Virgil, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Has A Crush On Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Has Powers, Depressed Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Invulnerability, Logic | Logan Sanders Has A Crush On Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders Has Powers, Logic | Logan Sanders Swears, M/M, Mentioned school shooting, Morality | Patton Sanders Has A Crush On Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders Has Powers, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Romantic Soulmates, Self-Hatred, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Superheroes, Swearing, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Sympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Sympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), Victim Blaming, Villain Dragon Witch, Whump, and i said so, because im biracial, but he swears often, civilian!virgil, flight, he's half korean and half european, im sorry its just that he swears the most in the behind the scenes and bloopers, like a lot, logan is the only who swears though, super strength, tbh, virgil is in a state of constant panic, virgil victim blames himself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing01/pseuds/Writing01
Summary: Virgil Knight, freshly escaped from a toxic relationship, doesn't think he can handle any sort of romantic commitment anytime soon. Unfortunately for him, the universe seems to have other plans as when one snowy night, he walks home and bumps into a man who introduces himself as Patton. It's only until after he and the stranger have conversed at length that they shake hands, and from the skin-to-skin contact a light blue soulmark appears on the inside of Virgil's wrist. Displaying all the emotions his soulmate is feeling at any given moment, the little square taunts him day in and day out.To top it all off, VIrgil couldn't even get stuck with one, but three soulmates.Navigating his wrestled with emotions regarding his newfound and quickly disconnected from soulmates, he juggles recent attention from the local heroes. Maybe someone else in his shoes would be calm - even excited to have stricken up a friendship with such influential people. All Virgil can feel is nervous.Who wouldn't be, when their abusive ex boyfriend is the resident supervillain?--A superhero/soulmate AU with a lot of angsty power imbalance in relationships
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Dr. Emile Picani, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, past Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/The Dragon Witch
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57





	Run Away & Isolate

Virgil tightened the scarf around his face, quickening his pace as he scurried under the overhead street lamps, shoes falling through murky puddles. The moon hung low in the sky, though the scene was already black (or at least as black as the light pollution allowed for the city night to get).

A stray snowflake drifted in a curling motion to the ground in front of him, and Virgil uselessly readjusted the scarf for the sixth time that night. He cringed, feeling the cold nip his fingers, and plunged his hands deeper into his pockets. He was almost home, it was only three blocks away.

Just as Virgil spotted the tree that marked the corner he was to turn on, he heard the breaking of wood accompanied by an _“Oh for Christ’s sake!”_ from the opposite side of the street. Turning to look, he spotted a tall man in a gray overcoat bending over to pick up stray objects here and there that had fallen from a split crate.

Sighing into the thin fabric, he immediately hurried across the street, doing his best to ignore the surrounding chill.

“Uh - hey sir?”

The man looked up and met his gaze - well, presumably. His eyes were hidden by the fogging up of his glasses from his breath in the cold air, so Virgil couldn’t be sure what was going on behind the frames; he assumed they were making eye contact. The man brushed curls away from his face and gave Virgil a little smile.

“Oh, hey there! Sorry, I didn’t notice you, are you okay?” His cheery tone sounded just a bit strained, and Virgil had to shove away rising discomfort at the idea that he was bothering him. It would be more impolite to walk past.

“Ah, actually I was coming over to see if you needed help with that.” He gestured a bit to the snowy ground where the contents of the crate had fallen. Upon closer inspection, Virgil realized that everything that had fallen out was light blue, grey, with light undertones of red and darker navy tones. 

Virgil’s eyebrows shot up, and unbeknownst to him, the stranger’s heart rate picked up in panic.

“Those look very realistic,” Virgil commented, “the coloring looks incredibly similar to the original thing.”

The tall man gave a little laugh, relaxing, “Thank you! I worked really hard on these; it was all from a Halloween party a few years ago,” gathering up the fallen supersuit costume and subsequent accessories, he tossed them into the trunk, the broken crate forgotten.

"My name is Patton, by the way," Mister Tall said. Virgil nodded awkwardly in acknowledgement. 

“So, uh, you need help with the others?” Virgil pointed to the other two crates lying on the ground and Patton turned swiftly to face them before letting out a good-natured chuckle.

“That’s real kind of you, young man, but they’re kinda heavy. I wouldn’t want you lifting them when it’s so cold and you’re - ah, you _are_ walking home right now?” At Virgil’s nod, Patton continued, “yeah, don’t worry about it too much, you better get out of the storm.”

Virgil held back a scoff. He wasn’t an incompetent child.

Despite his annoyances with Patton’s condescending nature, he refrained from saying anything pointed to the man. He genuinely seemed like he was trying to look out for Virgil after all. Though that _did_ make it sting a little bit more come to think of it: the idea that it was all in sincerity.

“Sir, I’m alright. Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”

Patton looked at him fondly, “You’re persistent, huh?”

Virgil shrugged his shoulders with a light-hearted eyeroll, “I’m a regular Dorothy.”

The other man gave a light laugh, and Virgil couldn’t help a trickle of warmth in his chest despite the chill that had settled into him.

“ _Okay, okay_ \- please help me.”

Virgil smiled softly from the teasing tone, “What can I do for you?”

Patton dug in his pockets and pulled out a keychain with a leather card holder, about ten keys, and a colorful charm.

Virgil raised an eyebrow jokingly, “Wouldn’t have pegged you as the unicorn liking type.”

Patton's previously close-mouthed smile widened until he was practically beaming, “It was a gag gift from my soulmates, I don’t think they expected me to actually use it,” he pressed the little decoration between his fingers fondly. 

Virgil couldn’t help a little grin from finding its way on his face, “Well it looks _very_ cute,” he playfully said, clasping his hands together in a mimicry of adoration.

Patton mock-gasped with a hand over his chest, “ _Why - thank you,_ kind sir!”

The two laughed a bit, simply enjoying the company despite the cold. Virgil stared off, realizing how nice it was to talk to someone so unassuming. Patton slid his glasses off and rubbed his temples. Virgil’s eyes drifted to Patton’s lovely brown ones, no longer hidden by the foggy glass, and the pair held a bit of contact, warm smiles still on their faces.

Virgil looked away.  
Patton was already involved. In any case, Virgil needed a break from that kind of stuff anyway.

“So I’m gonna take a wild stab and figure there’s something I should do with the keychain from your soulmates?”

Patton ducked his head away a bit shamefully, swallowing the pleasant feelings from the brief moment, “Right, right - you’re right,” he cleared his throat quickly, “Um, well, I accidentally dropped a few notebooks while I was still in the complex,” he motioned a bit to the apartment building to the left of Virgil, right of Patton, “they’re just inside the entrance.”

Patton handed the lump of keys to Virgil, and Virgil traced the enamel pattern of the unicorn with his thumbpad. 

“Inside the blue key is a magnetic little scanner, you can just hold it under the lock and the door should beep and let you open it. As long as you’re comfortable with it, would you mind grabbing the notebooks for me?”

Virgil nodded, eyes trained anywhere but Patton’s face, “Of course.”

Patton smiled kindly to him, though Virgil missed it, “thank you.”

Virgil left the man to handle the rest of the crates. God forbid he break another left to his own devices. Against Virgil's will, a flare of warmth sprung back up in his chest.

He bit the inside of his cheek feeling a little more annoyed with himself than he’d like to admit. Patton seemed at least five years older than him (a non-problem for Virgil had he not been nineteen), and in any case, the guy was already in a committed relationship with his _multiple_ soulmates.

 _Unbelievable,_ Virgil thought to himself, _I finally manage to get out of one unhealthy relationship with a power imbalance and then one of the first things I do is go looking for another. Jesus Christ -_ no wonder _I was trapped for so long._

He crossed a few steps, leaving his thoughts behind, as he quickly got to the entrance. He held the little key under the scanner as Patton directed, and crossed the threshold into the entrance after the telltale beep of the door, immediately soaking in the warmth with a contented sigh.

He spotted the notebooks on the ground. They were in a light blue coloring as well. Fondness crossed his heart. He stamped it out again. 

After collecting the notebooks, he returned to the cold outside. 

Patton closed the trunk, crates inside, just as Virgil reached him, pulling the man’s keys out of his pocket and handing it over.

“Would you like to sit inside the car for a moment? Just as the engine warms.”

Virgil opened his mouth to protest, but Patton cut him off before he could start, “Please, I insist. You must be freezing.”

Virgil didn’t know how to say no to that dashing smile. 

Against his better judgement, he relented, opening the passenger side door and taking a seat on the soft upholstery. 

Patton took the driver’s side seat and started the car, the engine coming to life soundlessly. Virgil wondered briefly how he could afford such a nice vehicle, but decided not to overthink it. Just meant he’d get heat that much quicker.

Brushing curls away from his eyes, Patton turned to Virgil, tugging a bit at his sleeves nervously.

“Thank you for grabbing those notebooks for me, and - uh, well - sorry, for keeping you up from wherever you’re headed to. Would you…” he trailed off before finishing hesitantly, “like a ride?”

Virgil gave a short little laugh, before quickly cutting himself off at the crestfallen look on Patton’s face, “I - sorry, sorry - you’re just a lot nicer than the people I usually end up around. You don’t even know my name, sir. I don’t know - what if - what if I’m a serial killer or something?”

Patton turned to him swiftly, eyes widening, “ah, but what if _I_ am?” Patton responded faux-gravely. 

Virgil turned to him in mock fear, surveying him up and down closely. 

The pair laughed again. 

“Eh, well at least we’re under protection,” Virgil conceded after a few moments.

“Oh? How do you mean?”

Virgil shot him a teasing look, “You know - like the Protective Trio? Heard of them?”

Patton snorted, “Oh, right, sorry. I guess I just had one of those moments,” he carded his hair, “It’s been a long day.”

Virgil sighed ruefully, “Yeah, really,” his thoughts drifted.

Patton studied his face carefully, “Wanna talk about it, potential serial killer?”

A fit of cackling was torn from Virgil’s lungs, “I - sir - oh my _god_.”

Patton chuckled, and playfully shoved at Virgil’s shoulder, brushing a bit of snow off of his jacket as he was, _“What?!_ I’m being serious, what’s going on with your life?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry - I’m not laughing at that, it’s just -” Virgil dissolved into giggles, “god, the ‘potential serial killer’ thing - caught me off guard is all, sorry sir,” he finished.

Patton gazed at him, “You don’t have to apologize for a thing,” he said, a note so soft and sweet in his voice that it surprised Virgil to hear. He thanked god that his olive complexion hid his blush: Patton seemed none the wiser. He continued on in a more lighthearted tone, “and you don’t have to call me sir, either, _nameless stranger,_ that’s really formal. You sound like Logan.”

“Logan?”

Patton chuckled and looked through the window, “One of my soulmates. You’d probably get along, actually,” Virgil nodded a bit absentmindedly, unsure of what to say.

Patton snapped back to reality: “That’s besides the point though, what I’m saying is, you can just call me by name! I’m probably not even that much older than you.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow skeptically, “I am _months_ shy of twenty.”

Patton turned a bit to him, and nodded with a look of polite surprise on his face, “I sit corrected,” he pointed to himself, “twenty-seven.”

Virgil gave a little laugh at the wordplay. “It’s nice to meet you,” sticking his hand out in shake, he told him affectionately, “my name is V -”

And so everything went downhill as Patton grasped his hand with Virgil’s.

Spots filled his vision, and he might have gasped, though he couldn’t have been sure. All he knew was that he was suddenly clutching his hand to his chest, unsure if he was breathing or not, though the way his chest pounded beneath his fingers meant he was (probably) still alive. His eyes shot to Patton’s dark brown ones as they swam in his vision. 

The man’s soft fingers brushed against Virgil’s wrist, where both sets of eyes trailed down to look in awe as four light blue lines filled themselves in, taking the form of a small square. Lettering appeared inside the little shape.

> **CONCERNED**

Virgil couldn’t clearly remember unlocking the door, or falling out of the vehicle into the street, or running home as Patton’s calling out grew more and more distant behind him, or even arriving home. 

Yeah, as shaky hands stuck the key into the little lock on his crappy apartment door, he conceded to himself that he couldn’t remember any of it with clarity.

Pulling his knees into his chest as he curled himself tight into the nearest corner, fingernails digging harshly into his thin black jeans, he just wished he couldn’t remember at all.

Virgil poured Gatorade into one of his largest wineglasses, mixing in a Bang energy drink with a fancy golden teaspoon.

He hadn’t slept last night. Doctor Picani and Janus would disapprove if they knew.  
Remus and Remy would egg him on.  
Both of these facts disconcerted Virgil. 

Try as he might however, he couldn’t sleep. He was only taking in the caffeine because he couldn’t stay awake either. 

He sighed, flipping on the TV as he curled into the couch with his Gatorbang. He pulled his phone out and clicked open his favorite news app, screen showing off various articles.

> _Another heroic save on behalf of Protective Trio_
> 
> _“The Prince flew through the lab’s window and knocked the gunman unconscious,” states seventeen-year-old_
> 
> _Protective Trio breaks up active shooting in town’s local high school_

Next to the articles, various pictures related to the stories were put up to add context. Virgil groaned when he saw the Lilypad, in all his masked glory, next to the third article. He tossed his phone to the seat next to him and took a particularly long sip from his glass, remembering the man from last night’s snowy encounter - Patton, his name was - and the Lilypad suit costume that had sparked their conversations in the first place. 

Patton. _His soulmate._

 _One of_ his soulmates, according to the man’s word. 

God Virgil was so screwed. 

He checked his wristwatch, making sure to avoid accidentally looking directly at his soulmark, unwilling to acknowledge it exists in the first place.

Instead, Virgil takes note of the way the time reads half past noon. He really needs sleep, he decides, regretfully looking down into the horrible caffeinated concoction in his painfully clenched fingers.

He drains the drink and clicks out of the news tab on his phone, switching into his contacts list.  
His thumb hovers over the green call button under _Doc._ _  
_ Virgil presses it on his way out the door to Janus’s.


End file.
